The Night After

Sorry for the long break, but real life wandered in and my muse fled!

I wrote the first half two years ago, and just finished it, so hopefully it works, but it at least gets you past that cliffhanger! Just a mini-lemon here, until the Master gets back... ;)

I won't hold the story hostage for reviews, as I'm terrible about leaving them myself, but if you can, leave me some feedback so I know that someone besides me is enjoying this!


Chapter Four

Staring at the box she'd been in in rising horror, Seras hardly noticed Walter running back in. "What is it?"

"It's a COFFIN! I was in a coffin..." It was huge and so black it swallowed light.

"You ARE a vampire now, it's only right," he tried be gentle. She looked so very fragile right now, blonde hair wild around her childish face and so tiny in the oversized white shirt.

"Oh, god, he put me in a coffin..."

Something in her head opened up and her Master's anger was blasting her like it had before. "Where was I supposed to put you, a packing crate? I honor you with my final dominion and you fall apart! Enough foolishness! You are mine now and will act properly." The something slammed shut inside her, staggeringly hard. She would have fallen if Walter hadn't stopped her. So small against him, tiny as Integra hadn't been since she had brought her monster out of the basement at thirteen. She weighted so little that he hardly noticed he was holding almost her entire weight.

Swinging her up in his arms, Walter judged his options of where to put her. The coffin would be a very bad idea, so that left one of the chairs tucked neatly under the ornate wooden table in the corner of the room. Hooking one of them with his foot, he pulled it out and settled the girl in it. Her eyes were still shut in pain. Making sure she wasn't going to fall out of the chair, he went to wet his handkerchief, muttering, "Insensitive prat... "

The cool wet of the soft cloth gently wiping her face brought her out of her fugue state, blinking in the dim light.

"It was Alucard nosing in, wasn't it?" There was concern and more then a little anger in his words. He handed her the cloth and she sat clutching it.

"Yes, he wasn't very happy with me..."

"Good. He's completely spoiled about having his own way." A small, wry smile. "He's always in much better humor after he's managed to kill something, so we'll hope that Sir Integra is going to keep him busy for a while."

Her Master would be back. Fear nibbled at the bottom of her stomach, but there was also a deep need to get back to what he was doing to her when he'd left. "I'm dead and I've become a trollop," she thought with a groan.

Walter watched her manage another full body blush. He wondered that she wasn't passing out with the scant amount of blood Alucard was likely to have left in her and all of it staining her ghostly skin. Greedy bastard, he mentally snorted, managing to refrain from touching his own neck, and old scars. He read where her thoughts were most likely leading. "Don't judge yourself too harshly, Seras. Alucard considers most mortals to be weak, and the harder you try to act like one, the more he'll push you. He had to have seen strength in you, but he'll still try to remake you to his own standards," he warned.

"Is that a good thing?"

He grinned at her worry. "I'm very sure it isn't, but trying to reject being a vampire would be worse." Straightening up, he sighed. "Now let's try that again before anything else happens."

She just couldn't seem to get rid of the tell tale blush. "Sorry," she whispered to his retreating back.

Walter returned with in only moments with a pair of fatigues and a t-shirt. "These shouldn't be too huge for now. There isn't much selection in the stores in anything close to your size. Except for Sir Integral, this is a house full of men."

Seras almost forgot to thank him as she grabbed up the clothes gratefully. "That's okay, my team always teased me that they could never find shirts for me, since I needed one size for the waist and one size for the... chest..." she faltered, torn between embarrassment and sadness that they'd never be the ones embarrassing her again.

Walter controlled his smirk with the ease of long practice. "If you don't need anything else, there are still arrangement to make. You can use the shower at the end of the hall of you like, and your boots are by the door. They only needed a good cleaning, luckily."

She shook her head and felt a pang when he left her. All alone with that big, black THING! Now that Walter was gone, she couldn't seem to take her eyes off of it. The lid was still up, and she could imagine that it was a hungry beast waiting for her to turn away so it could pounce. Telling herself that she was now a dead, crazy trollop, she headed to the open door with her bundle of clothes.

She still didn't take her eyes off of it until she was out of the room.

Almost humming with the thought of being clean, she shut the door carefully, grabbed up the boots and made for the end of the stone corridor. It wasn't hard to find the bathroom; all of the other doors were locked. Everything was retrofitted, with pipes running up the ancient walls to the shower head over an ornate claw foot tub that looked like it could double as a boat. Setting the clothes on the edge of the sink, Seras stripped off the huge shirt. Would it be a heresy if she dropped it on the floor? With a mental shrug, she tossed it in the corner. After all, Alucard couldn't kill her again, could he? Climbing up the steps set next to the huge tub, she almost tumbled in. Figuring out the controls, she reveled in the hot water beating down. Alucard may have cleaned the blood off before dressing her in his shirt, but the water swirling down still had a red tint.

Running a hand down her chest, she wondered at the lack of a hole. There wasn't even a scar to show for the injury. She could still feel the huge hole being torn in her, and not being able to breathe, blood bubbling on her lips. Then he'd cradled her and the pain had receded. The blood had been licked from her mouth with an agile tongue. Her eyes started to shut. Attacking herself with the soap, she tried to ignore the feel of her soapy hands and the beating water. Her skin had never been this sensitive before.

There was a clenching low in her body as she washed her breasts, involuntarily rubbing tender nipples, and even with the water she could feel thicker fluids start to run down her legs. She ran a hand between her legs, gasping at the feeling. Holding the hand in front of her face, she was somehow surprised that the clear slickness that was washing off wasn't blood.

It really wasn't the time or place, but she was never going to be able to deal with a certain taunting vampire in this condition. Seras may have been a virgin, but she'd pleasured herself before. It was better and less trouble to take care of it herself then dating someone she worked with and dealing with the awkwardness afterwards. All of her team had also been more like older brothers to her, however they teased. Thoughts of them were still too numb to bring her any relief from her current state, however.

Giving up, she soaped her hands again and sat on the edge of the tub. Spreading her legs, one hand slid down her flat stomach, while the other one cupped her left breast. Her fingers slid on the bare skin between her legs. Seras had always shaved all but a little trimmed patch, same as she shaved her legs every day even if no one ever saw them but herself. Her thighs opened wider and she could feel the water spraying on tender flesh. Moaning, her fingers parted the skin around her clit and let it pound directly on the swollen bit of flesh. With a final tug on a rock hard nipple, she abandoned her breasts and slid the other hand even farther down, sliding in the mixture of fluids. Gasping for unneeded air, her fingers stroked the engorged opening, then dipped inside.

She was aroused enough that two of her slender fingers went in with hardly any resistance. Regretfully giving up the stimulation of the water spray she started rubbing her clit directly. The feelings were so much more then they'd ever been before. The water felt like tiny tongues wherever it touched. It built and built, beyond where she'd ever been able to take herself. Slamming her fingers deep inside, she didn't dare stop. If she didn't find release soon, she'd go insane. Hitting a spot deep inside, she exploded. Almost falling from her seat, the wave of intense pleasure wrung a scream out of her. Her head dropped back to her chest and she drooped, twitching in the little bursts of aftermath from her orgasm. Pulling her coated fingers out of her body, another jolt of sensation almost made her come again.

"Very nice, policegirl... but do save some for me."

Her head came up fast enough that she almost clonked it on the wall behind her. Where... ? Stopping the instinct to search the room for the voice that had seemed to breathe in her ear, Seras realized that it was the same mental voice that Alucard had used on her earlier. With the words had come a jolt of his amusement and approval. Feeling like testing to see if she could drown herself, she poked around in her head for him, but seemingly he'd left after letting her know that she could have no secrets from him. She'd also gotten a swift feeling of doubled pleasure from him, both over what she'd done and what he was doing, which was likely killing things from what Walter had said. She waited for that thought to disgust her, and was disturbed when it didn't.

"Fine, the pervert wants to listen in while he's working, he can take what he gets," she muttered angrily, forgetting that said pervert seemed very pleased indeed.

Climbing back out, she decimated the stack of fluffy towels on a shelf, rubbing every drop she could from her skin and short hair. When she looked in the mirror over the sink, she laughed at the familiar dandelion mane that poofed around her head. "Bloody hell... not a brush in the place!" Tossing on the fatigue pants and t-shirt, really regretting the lack of a bra, she finger combed her halo of hair as best she could. Looking at her reflection again, she decided that she'd pass muster, but only if she could manage not to bounce too much. "Probably have a backache by bedtime," she predicted with a sigh.

Feeling clean and more at peace then she had since she'd woken up, she leaned against the cold stone wall outside the bathroom. The borrowed warmth from the shower felt lovely in the chill air. A even colder draft blew by, caressing a shiver out of her. An odd smell came with it, faint but familiar. It was and it wasn't the same earthy, spicy scent that she'd woken up to. This one teased her with the differences. The draft ran by again, leaving her nipples hard and aching, standing out from the thin material of her shirt and the rest of skin breaking out in goose pimples.

Seras hadn't only been nicknamed Kitten for her looks, she was also as curious as one, and as prone to getting in trouble. Without a second thought, she started tracing the illusive scent. Well, it wasn't like she wanted to go back in the room she'd been in, not without back up!

The archway had been all but invisible the first time she'd gone by it. The stairs were narrow and dark, going down farther then she could see, even with her new eyesight. For all the look of a dungeon, the lights were electric, and there didn't seem to be any switches down there. Cursing the lack of a good torch, she tried to not trip on her way down. It was more then a floor's worth of steps before she stepped out into another stone hallway with doors lining both sides. Pouncing on the switch, the sudden light was blinding.

The odor was stronger here, but still so much less then in the box. Old, dry... It came from the last door, heavy oak, with traces of a pattern being painted around it. There was a tingle when she put her hand on the door, but nothing else as it opened, unlocked.

Cold tendrils of air seemed to coil about her limbs, urging her inside. There wasn't anything tangible in the room. It was bare as if no furniture had ever been there. But there was something...

Looking closely, there was a patch of brown stain on the stone of the floor. Blood, she'd guess, but old, years old. Farther in, on the back wall was an outline of tarnished silver spikes in the wall, like something had been pinned there once. A bit of black leather strap dangled from one of them, the end torn right through the heavy thickness. Odder still, the black silhouette of a seated figure was inside the spikes. It didn't seem to be paint, and what she'd been following came from this darkness. Resting her hand on it made drafts come out of nowhere, dancing around her, filling her nose with the scent that had grown stronger. Little fizzles ran through her skin, starting in her hand. She seemed to hear whispering, but there were no words, no real voice.

Straining to hear, she moved nearer to the shadow. One of the spikes seemed less tarnished than the rest, and her other hand moved to touch it. The flat base had a tiny pattern cast into it that seemed familiar. Sensations like touching a light socket came from the contact. Instead of yanking her hand back, Seras gripped the spike and pulled. It came loose, almost toppling her to her arse when it released.

Even out of the wall it tingled, but she couldn't seem to make herself put it down. Feeling emptied of what energy she'd had, Seras leaned into the shadow, finding comfort in her contact with it. Letting herself down, she curled up against it, still holding her find. "Master..." she whispered.

As she drifted into a doze, she didn't see the shadow starting to spread beyond the boundary of the rest of the spikes.


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